


To Paint Silence

by kuriositet



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bandom Big Bang 2010, M/M, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 10:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriositet/pseuds/kuriositet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gerard is about one month away from graduating college, and the deadline for his final big Art project is getting closer. He's got one idea for it, but because of what it involves, he's been procrastinating it an awful lot just because he can't find the words to ask his best friend to pose for him. Naked.</p><p>When he does, though, Gerard realizes it's not only about painting. It's about their friendship, it's about fighting for some control. And it's also about keeping his attraction in silence as the younger boy seems to constantly read his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Paint Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Written for BBB on LJ 2010. Original [art](http://kuriositet.livejournal.com/15608.html) and [mix](http://kuriositet.livejournal.com/15219.html) posts. Beta credit to [happilyappled](http://archiveofourown.org/users/happilyappled).

The silence between the two of them is deafening, and so awkward Gerard might actually get up and leave the table any minute now. He stirs what's left of his coffee, although most of it is milk and it's already well blended with the actual coffee and it's well on its way to being too cold to taste like it should, and stares down at the light brown, dark beige liquid. He glances up every now and then at Frank who is carefully hugging his own paper cup of coffee with his hands, sipping it.

Every time he does look up, his mind seems to magically conjure up yet another reason why having Frank model for him would be great, even if he already knows that better than anyone. He's actually the only one who does know it, considering he didn't dare tell Mikey and he's too chicken to ask Frank. But he knows that Frank needs to be his model for this project, or the project won't be happening, since the image of the Frank painting is the only idea he has and there's no time to get another. And just the idea of using another model is enough to make Gerard cringe. 

"Is that your phone ringing?" The silence is suddenly broken by Frank's voice, and the Pokemon theme song coming out of Gerard's cell phone that's vibrating in his pocket completely unnoticed by him. Pulling it out and checking the screen, he sees that it's just Mikey, so instead of answering it he turns it off and puts it back. All the while, he could make out a bemused look on Frank's face in his peripheral vision, but when he looked back up it had turned into one of confusion.

"It's just Mikey. I'll call him back later," he explains as his right hand resumes the coffee stirring.

"Yeah, you wouldn't wanna interrupt our deep life changing conversation now, would you?" Frank cracks up almost before he's finished the sentence, amused by his own joke and Gerard joins in after a second or two. Frank's humor isn't the best if you compare quality and stuff, but it's better than 'your mom!' and other shitty jokes that so called professionals come up with. It's the same kind of humor that Gerard has, and that, he thinks, is part of the reason they have always been able to hang out without feeling weird.

Until now.

"Well, yeah, we could actually come up with something important, you know. We could find a cure for cancer, or AIDS," Gerard argues in between high-pitched giggles. 

Frank rolls his eyes and stops laughing just long enough to sound sort of serious when he says, "There already is a cure for AIDS. It's called condoms. It's amazing. I use them all the time. You know, a condom a day keeps the doctor away." Again, he's cracking up before he's finished his last sentence, and is sort of hiding his red face in his hands.

"Condoms aren't a cure. They’re a precaution. And there are other ways of getting it."

"Yeah, but none of them are a danger to you. You're terrified of needles and you've already been born. And I don't know any other ways of getting it, so. . . Condoms." Frank grins, happy with his conclusion that condoms will save the day, and Gerard just shakes his head, still too giggly to argue it further.

They're both silent again, but it's just for a short while and it's not as strange and heavy as it was before, Gerard is happy to notice. He's the one to break it too, after seeing a waitress glaring at them and realizing that they've been sitting there for over an hour, most of the time being after finishing their coffee.

"You wanna get out of here? The blonde waitress over there looks as if she's gonna kill us if we hog the table any longer," he says, still feeling like he needs to laugh, but suppressing it to a casual smile. "We can go back to my place, if you don't mind."

"Of course not. It's not like I have anything better to do." Frank rolls his eyes as they both get up and leaves the pretty crowded café. It's unusually hot outside to be this early in May, but Gerard still puts on the leather jacket he's never seen without, and Frank doesn't even bother to object because he's used to watching Gerard rather sweat like a pig than walk around in just a t-shirt. Sober, that is. Get enough beer in him and he forgets to be annoyingly self-conscious. 

"So, you got any plans for the weekend?" Frank says, dragging his feet over the gravel, as usual not seeming to care that it would wear his already beat up vans out even faster.

That's Frank, though, Gerard thinks, wearing his clothes and shoes out faster than any normal sort-of-broke teenager, just so he has a valid reason to buy new ones. Not many people know that one of Frank's biggest weaknesses is shopping and clothes, but Gerard does, after having been friends with him for quite a few years now.

When Gerard emerges out of his thoughts about Frank's shoes it seems that a moment too much has passed since Frank asked the question, and although he doesn't really want to, Gerard is forced to tell the truth about his weekend plans instead of coming up with an excuse and continuing to avoid the subject. "Uh well, I was hoping to start working on this new art project for school, but I need a model for it, and. . . I was sort of meaning to ask if you could do me a favor and model for me, but I wasn't sure you'd be up for it." He can't really help but squirm inwardly while he says it all, and as he spoke so quickly Frank probably didn't catch all of it anyway.

"Why wouldn't I want to model for you? You've painted my portrait before," Frank says matter-of-factly, but then it's as if he connects Gerard's reluctance to ask him the question and the older boy's strange, sort of anxious behavior. "Is it, not a _normal_ portrait?" he asks hesitantly, throwing Gerard a kind of nervous glance. 

"Not exactly, no." Gerard now feels as worried as Frank looks, thinking that Frank really won't want to do this. Even for friends some things will always be too weird to do together. Especially this kind of thing. You need strangers for it, ugly strangers are to be preferred to minimize the risk for things turning awkward. "Can we talk about it when we get to my place? I'll explain everything and let you think about it."

"Yeah, sure. I'll just try and not think of worst case scenarios that you could want to draw me in but I would hate." Frank shudders visibly, but flashes Gerard one of his smile as if to say that he's not really that worried. It's not like Gerard would ever make him do something he doesn't want to do anyway.

"Too bad, I'd actually like to know what bad things you could come up with. Can't you give me at least something? I could use it for my next project," Gerard says just as they turn left and head into his apartment building. There isn't an elevator so they have to take the stairs, but they're both used to it. The only time it's a problem is when they're so drunk they have to support each other to remain upright.

"Well, you'd better not ask me to model for you if you're going for this idea." Frank looks all serious and holds out his hands as if he's trying to visualize it. Then he shudders again, and frowns at the apparently horrible mental image in his head. "Okay, the worst thing I can think of is spiders. You know, somehow incorporated into the painting, on the model or something." He looks at Gerard who just nods thoughtfully. "And that's probably the only thing I really wouldn't ever do for anyone, or any amount of money or whatever payment was offered."

"Awesome, that's not even close to what I have in mind, so I hope that this won't be a problem for you," Gerard says, a little breathless from climbing the stairs and once again reminded that smoking is not something he should be doing. A seven year old habit is not something that you get rid of in a week, though, something that he's experienced firsthand many times. 

"Okay, now you've got my interest. How about we just get inside, get some more coffee and smokes and then you can tell me exactly what it is that you want to do? Because I'm really just curious now about what could be so bad you'd think I wouldn't do it. We've been friends for years, there's not much I wouldn't do for you. Spiders being one of those things." Frank leans against the wall next to Gerard's apartment door, making himself as comfortable as one can be standing up like that. He's panting a little too, being a smoker just like Gerard, but not for nearly as long as his four years older friend.

"I'm still not so sure about this, but yeah, let's get inside and I'll tell you all about it." Gerard finds his keys and gets the door open, already shrugging his too hot jacket off and going inside his relatively cool apartment. As Frank toes off his shoes, Gerard goes straight for the kitchen and the coffee machine, discarding his wallet and keys on the table on his way there.

He hears Frank disappear off to the bathroom, and once he's got the coffee machine going, he seizes the moment to go and change his sweaty t-shirt for a clean _er_ one. He would like to shower as well, and cool down in general, but he decides to let that wait for a more convenient time. 

Frank is sprawled across the two-seat couch when Gerard comes back, his head on one of the armrests and feet just sticking out at the other end. His face looks relaxed and his eyes are closed, but as Gerard stands next to the couch, looking down at him and waiting for him to move so he can sit down, he grins and meets the older boy's gaze. "The floor is all yours man," he says, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah, right," Gerard mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm, and sits down on top of the instantly struggling Frank's stomach, ignoring the 'oof's and 'get the fuck off of me you fucking fat ass!' and gets himself comfortable.

"Gee-ee-ee-eeee," Frank whines, pushing pathetically at Gerard who doesn't budge. "Get off," he pokes Gerard in the side, as hard as he can, but it only results in the older boy squirming on top of him and making it harder for him to breathe. "You're crushing me."

"You called me fat. and you wouldn't let me sit on _my_ couch. So now I sit on you." Gerard grins and returns the poking, causing Frank to start squirming underneath him again in attempts to get free. In the end he is getting nowhere and seems to be waiting for Gerard to get bored of just sitting on him, which actually happens sooner rather than later. 

"I'm gonna go get the coffee." Gerard stretches a little as he stands up and Frank draws in a deep breath, clutches his stomach and practically rolls off the couch just because he can. Gerard can't help but grin and lean down to pat the younger boy's back. "At least now you know better than to try and hog my furniture like that."

"Fuck you, Gee," Frank mutters and crawls back onto the couch. 

When Gerard gets back, Frank is sitting up properly, and Gerard is glad that he doesn't have to squish him again. Sure, Frank's stomach is a little bit pudgy, but he's too damn skinny to be anywhere near comfortable to sit on for a longer period of time.

Frank sighs happily when Gerard hands him his steaming mug of coffee and sips it carefully, but gives Gerard a look that says that he's still pissed about Gerard sitting on top of him. "You know, if you want to get help from a friend, or anyone for that matter, sitting on them really isn't the most motivating way to go."

"Uh, yeah," Gerard shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee.

"What is this thing that you're so afraid of telling me about anyway? You were obviously stalling before, and I'm getting more curious my the second." He nudges Gerard with his elbow and turns to the right so he's facing Gerard, folding his legs up on the couch in front of him. "And it can't be that bad. If it isn't about spiders, what are you worried about? Needles? I'm not afraid of needles. I can do needles. As long as I don't have to inject myself with anything." 

Frank rambles on and on about what he would and wouldn't do for Gerard and his most important project for art school, and the older boy can't hide the grin that slowly but surely appears on his face. "It's not needles, or spiders, or anything else like that," Gerard laughs.

"It's not about phobias?" Frank shrieks gleefully, bouncing in his seat and grabbing onto Gerard's arm as he leans closer.

"No, no phobias." Gerard is still smiling but he pauses to take a deep breath before finally getting to the point he has (not so) subconsciously been avoiding for most of the afternoon. "It's about skin, and marks on the skin. Like scars, bruises . . ." 

"Tattoos," Frank finishes for him, a wide, toothy grin taking up most of his face in a way that looks kind of painful to Gerard. Gerard nods and Frank goes on, "That's awesome! Why have you been nervous about asking me that? Of course I'll do it; you know how much I love showing off my tattoos. Even the less good ones." 

Gerard finds himself wrapped up in a tight hug as Frank's arms close around his shoulders, squeezing him. But he's not sharing Frank's happiness and relief just yet, knowing that there is more to the painting than Frank showing one or two tattoos. He wants to see pretty much all of them.

"Frank, there's one more thing, and this is what I was actually nervous about asking you." Gerard squirms his way out of Frank's embrace. "I, uh, you see, I." He pauses again and tries to ignore the amused look on Frank's face. It's as if he's back in High School when he was trying to ask a girl in his History class to Prom, and she and all her friends were laughing at him before he had even opened his mouth. But he's not trying to ask Frank out, he's just trying to explain the details of the painting. 

"I want you naked," he blurts out, but then he realizes _what the fuck_ he just said and goes red. "I mean, I want you to pose naked, for the painting. I want it to be a full body picture, and although most of your tattoos are on your upper body I think it will look better if you're not… wearing any clothes. At all." Gerard rambles until he runs out of words and things that make even just a little sense, and then goes quiet, his face still red like a tomato. 

Frank is looking as if he's trying not to laugh and fall off the couch and not nearly as surprised and shocked as Gerard expects him too. In the end the younger boy falls backwards, head landing on the armrest and his legs kicking in the air like a kid. When he finally calms down and starts breathing somewhat normally, Gerard's blush has gone down and he's gathered his thoughts enough to hope that the laughing is a positive reaction to what he said.

"Gee, for how many years have we known each other? Like, four years?" Frank asks and Gerard nods. They've known each other since around the time Gerard graduated from High school, and they met in one of the strangest ways possible. At least, the first time Gerard remembers meeting Frank was weird since he had apparently agreed to let Frank crash on the couch after a party and he was more drunk than he can remember ever being. So he got up the next day to find this fourteen year old kid eating breakfast in his kitchen while talking to Gerard's mom. 

"Are you in any way saying that you've never seen me naked, by accident or something?" Gerard shakes his head. He can't remember ever seeing Frank without clothes on, so of course, it could have happened when he was drunk enough to forget it, but he doesn't think so.

"Yeah, I don't think I have." He looks almost apologetic, but shrugs it off and takes a long sip of his coffee that has cooled off significantly by now. "I guess it's because you're younger than me and I think it would be weird to look at you naked, or wonder what," once again he realizes he's about to say something stupid and stops himself before it's too late. "Yeah." He blushes again and Frank shakes his head, giggling.

Then he says, "So now that I'm over eighteen you think I'm old enough? You think I'm old enough for your perverted twenty-three year old eyes to stare at? To imagine dirty things that you could do to me and have naughty fantasies that I'll beg for you to make real."

If Gerard wasn't so amused by the fact that Frank is really trying to make him uncomfortable, he probably had been flustered and bothered by Frank suddenly climbing onto his lap and whispering in a husky, low voice in his ear, his breath hot and moist on his skin. But he's learned that when Frank gets like this there's no reason to take him seriously, so he doesn't.

"Do you want me, Gee?" Frank breathes, and Gerard suppresses the urge to laugh. "Do you want to fuck me?" He's grinning, Gerard can hear it in the way his words are sort of cut short, and he's giggling even before Gerard grabs him by the chin and holds him out in front of himself.

"No, thank you. You're disgusting, Frank," Gerard laughs, shoving Frank too the side so that he falls back on the couch laughing, much like he had before.

"Aw, you don't think I'm pretty?" he pouts, taking a temporary break from laughing as he pokes Gerard with his foot.

"You're very pretty, Frankie, but not in the 'I have dirty fantasies about you that I jerk off to every night' way, okay?" He leans over and pets Frank's dark mess of hair and kisses his cheek before getting up from the couch and going down the hallway to the bathroom.

"You're just saying that so that I won't think that you're thinking about me when you stick your hand down your pants. But I see through that, you know. I'm brighter than I look, and I'm on to you, Way!" Frank shouts loud enough for the sound to reach Gerard opening the bathroom door. "I'm on to you, and I won't give up until I've proven that you want my ass."

When Gerard returns, Frank is no longer on the couch, but in the kitchen making more coffee, for which Gerard can't help but love him just a little bit more.

"So, when you said you wanted to get started on the painting this weekend, did you mean that you wanted to work on it today too?" Frank sits down by the kitchen table and supports his head in his hand and looks up at Gerard who seconds later sits down as well. "Because, it's already sort of late, and I'm going out with Mikey and Bob tonight," he says, tapping his fingers against the table and looking hopefully at Gerard. "You can come with us tonight. Then I don't have to be the third wheel, which would really make you awesome in like a million ways." He bats his eyelashes and Gerard wonders if the kid wears mascara or if they really are that long and thick and dark naturally.

"Well, if we could just decide where would be the best place, and a natural pose that will show off as many tattoos as good as possible, that would be a great start." Frank nods, although Gerard is more thinking to himself out loud than talking to Frank. "And I'll come with you tonight, but you'll have to promise not to get too smashed. I can't have you be all hung over when I start painting."

Frank pulls a rather cute 'I'm completely devastated' face and looks as if someone just told him Christmas wasn't really canceled, but he's not getting anything out of it. No presents, no yummy food, no annoying relatives that force home-knitted socks and sweaters upon you and pinch your cheeks whenever you're close enough. What's the point in that?

"But I won't be getting drunk either, so we can be sort-of-sober together?" Gerard tries, but it's too late. He's already ruined Frank's idea of what a great weekend, and especially a great Friday night, is supposed to be like. 

"You're mean," he says, pouting. "What's the point in going out if you can't even drink and enjoy yourself without anything holding you back?"

"I'm sorry, but I want to get into the painting without any problems around it, like you being too tired to sit still, or running off to throw up in the middle of the sitting." He can't help but feel guilty for ruining Frank's night, but what can he do? Of course, he can wait another day to start on the painting, but the time already is scarce and he wants to have what he refers to as 'emergency correction and reparation time' in case something goes terribly wrong along the way.

"How about, next Saturday, when we've both gotten into it and all, we go out and take the next day off? To make up for tonight not being what you intended." Even though Frank takes a few moments to reply, most likely trying to play on Gerard's guilt, the older boy knows that he's about to be forgiven.

"Okay," he finally says, "but I'm expecting you to buy me drinks. Not just because of tonight, but sort of as payment for me letting you paint me, in the nude and all. So you don't have to really pay me, in any other way." 

Gerard nods, looking sort of thoughtful, and says, "But I'll feel guilty for taking all of your time that you should be using to study for your finals."

"Well, if you really want to pay me, you could just blow me some time, and I wouldn't have to jerk off that night and could use the time to study instead." Frank smirks and leans across the table to reach out and run his fingers over Gerard's arm where it lies on top of the table.

"Frank, seriously, _do_ you want to have sex with me?" Gerard asks, staring at Frank like he wants to smack him over the head, or give in and actually do one of the things that Frank has so happily suggested time and time again today. Yeah, he thinks, but no. Not happening. Ever. He screwed up a friendship like that once and he does not want to repeat the mistake with Frank.

"Aw, I thought you'd never ask." Frank smiles sweetly and bats his eyelashes again, still stroking Gerard's arm.

Gerard just rolls his eyes and stands up, tired of playing games that are not getting anywhere. "So, are we gonna get started, or what?" Frank takes a moment to nod a yes, but stands up, stretching and yawning as if he's been sitting there for hours and not just twenty minutes.

"Where?" he rubs his eyes and runs a hand through his semi-long hair.

"I was thinking of using mirrors to get as many of your tattoos visible to my angle as possible, and my best mirror for that is in my bedroom," Gerard explains as he leads the way there, stopping in front of the mirror that runs from the floor almost all the way up to the ceiling. "But I think it's a little too cramped in here so I'd rather bring it out to the lounge, if you could help me carry it."

"Sure," Frank mutters with a soft sigh, not really up for carrying huge, heavy mirrors through an apartment with random stuff lying around on the floor where you least expect it. But he grabs the frame with both hands, careful not to drop it, as Gerard does the same and leads the way back to the lounge. They put it down so it's leaning against the wall by the windows and sort of reflecting them and the last rays of the afternoon sun.

"I think this is perfect," Gerard says, waving his hands excitedly as he takes in the lighting and reflections and everything. "I will have to put up shades and lights to make sure the lighting and shadows are always the same, but I can most likely use the reflections of the windows and the sky outside if I just paint it at the right moment."

"Yeah, it sounds great, and it looks great too. What kind of paints are you gonna use? Oils?"

"I hope to have time for two paintings, actually. One using oils and one using water colors," Gerard replies, eager to start working now that he's at least got the right position for the mirror. "Can you stand here?" He tugs on Frank's arm to make him stand where he wants him, facing the windows but angled so that he's more turned towards the room and the easel which Gerard will be working on.

"Should I take my clothes off?" he asks and Gerard, who is crouching down to adjust his feet and thus has his head leveled with Frank's crotch, looks up at him.

"No, that won't be necessary until tomorrow." He grins and stands up to step over to the easel to look from there how the angle is and how the reflections appear. He tells Frank to move forward two inches and a half, and that's really the best he can do. "I wish I had another mirror, but I think this will work. I hope it will." He can't help but feel disappointed, now seeing what the setting looks like when he had imagined it so perfectly in his head, with every side of Frank visible along with the tattoos.

"I'm sure that it's gonna turn out even better than anyone could ever imagine, alright?" Frank says, sort of twitching as if he wants to move and give Gerard an encouraging hug, but he stays in place like Gerard has told him to. 

Gerard gets out some tape to mark where Frank is standing and then takes a photo to make sure he can recreate the way Frank's left leg is bent ever so slightly at the knee and he's putting most of his bodyweight on the right one. "We'll figure out how you can hold your arms tomorrow, if that's okay. I'll probably end up changing the way you're standing too, but I think it will be something like this." He gives Frank a small smile, still not feeling too confident about this, but the giant grin Frank flashes him in return makes him feel a little better.

"So we're done? I can go home and get ready for our _wild_ night out?" Frank asks, rolling his eyes and sort of stretching his legs and making the impression that he'd been standing there for hours, rather than a few minutes. 

"Yes, Gerard chuckles, "You can go home and prettify yourself." That earns him a playful shove from Frank.

"Hey, I don't prettify myself. I only… sexify myself. Like I would need to make myself prettier than I already am. I don't think that's even possible, you know." He shakes his head and looks at Gerard like he just did something that made him lose all respect for him. Which might actually be the case, given how serious Frank looks, Gerard thinks.

"But you need to make yourself sexier?" Gerard smirks, and can't help but burst out laughing at the 'what did you just say' look on Frank's face.

"I'm not even going to sink as low as to answer that question," he mutters, rubbing his forehead as if he's trying _so hard_ not to to throw a fit at Gerard. Then he says, "I'll see you later, bye," and walks out of the lounge without looking at Gerard, still too pissed off to acknowledge the fact that Gerard's statement was sort of true and that he had just said it himself. Maybe tomorrow?

When Frank has left, Gerard takes the empty coffee mugs back to the kitchen and puts them in the sink before pouring himself a new one, realizing that they had forgotten about the new pot that Frank had made. He makes some noodles to eat and then gets ready to go out with Frank and the others. He's not as excited about it as Frank, and doesn't feel like he has to 'sexify' himself, but he showers and straightens his hair anyway, because it's routine.

Frank calls him later to ask if Gerard can pick him up, so he does and then ends up swinging by his parents’ house to pick up Mikey and Bob, but manages to get out of having to drive possibly wasted out of their minds Mikey and Bob at ass o'clock in the morning. Apparently his mom had given them money for a cab, not knowing that Gerard was going too and intending to stay sober.

About an hour after arriving at the bar, Gerard is experiencing a whole new level of boredom. He's alone in the booth they got when they got to the bar, sipping a small glass of coke wishing he had some Bacardi, and looking for Frank to make sure he doesn't 'forget' his promise not to drink. He's on the dance floor, clinging to someone Gerard thought was Frank's ex, but now he isn't so sure anymore. 

Gerard looks away when Frank sticks his tongue down the guy's throat, but when his eyes instead lands on Mikey and Bob sucking face, he shudders and looks back to Frank who's grinning and seemingly whispering something to the guy who's attacking his neck. Frank's facing in Gerard's direction, so he looks down, not wanting Frank to catch him staring. He would never admit to it out loud, but Frank does look rather hot like that. Light gray jeans that are tight in all the right places, a v-neck t-shirt that clings to his surprisingly toned chest, his dark hair being all over the place in some sort of organized mess. . . Gerard can't seem to take his eyes off of him, even as his tongue once again tangles with the other guy, Ryan's.

A few minutes after that, Frank does look up to see Gerard staring, not necessarily at him and the guy, who Gerard thinks looks sort of a girl, but in that general direction. He's kind of surprised when Frank lets go of Ryan, and comes back to Gerard, but then Frank actually seems sort of glad to be rid of him.

"Hey," he says, grinning as he squeezes down on the same side of the table as Gerard and steals his glass of coke, having finished his own five minutes after he got it. He runs a hand through his hair that's damp with sweat, and seems to have some sort of post-make-out-glow thing going on. "Having fun?"

"Nope," Gerard sighs, putting down his elbow on the table and his head in his hand. "Was that your ex you were making out with? You're not back together, are you? I thought he was an ass," Gerard states, reaching for his coke. It had been a few months since it all went down, but Gerard remembers pretty clearly that Ryan had cheated on Frank a lot and then claimed that they had both agreed on having an open relationship.

"Yeah, that's Ross. And no, we're not back together. He's still going out with the skank he was sleeping around with. He was actually telling me before about how amazing Brendon was just because he agreed to be in an open relationship." Frank rolls his eyes and mirrors Gerard's position. "And, just so you know, we weren't making out. Just kissing," he adds defensively.

"Yeah, because you're arms totally weren't all over each other and you're not gonna have a hickey tomorrow?" Gerard says, smirking as a blush appears on Frank's cheeks. "I could see your tongues. . . _wrestling_ ," he spits out, "from across the room."

"We were kissing! French kissing," the younger boy insists. "He's very good at it, despite being a jerk and not so good in the sack." Frank laughs, and then pries Gerard's glass out of his hands again to have another sip. "Why were you looking, anyway?" He looks up curiously and Gerard shrugs.

"Because looking at you making out with that jerk is still much better than looking at Bob swallowing my baby brother's face whole," Gerard groans, throwing a quick glance back to where Mikey and Bob are still very busy. 

"Oh god," Frank croaks out, laughing so hard he cries. "They are embarrassing. And honestly? It looks as if Bob is about to snap Mikey in half, like a twig." Frank giggles and Gerard can't help but start too, the image in his head too hilarious. 

"You know, after almost six months I still don't see why they are together, and how it happened." Gerard shakes his head.

"Well, we know that Bob ran into Mikey and knocked him over so that his notes fell into a puddle of water and then Bob felt really guilty so he bought Mikey coffee, right?" Frank says, looking thoughtfully over to where the couple in question has finally separated their mouths. "And two days later they were attached at the hip?"

Gerard nods. "I think that either one of them drugged the other, or Cupid had partied the night before and gotten so drunk he couldn't shoot straight. I mean, have you ever met two people with fewer things in common?" 

"That are dating?" Frank asks, raising one of his perfectly shaped eyebrows that Gerard thinks has definitely been sexified. "Nope."

Gerard just nods at that, and they're left in silence. It's rather nice, though, because the music is so loud that they can't talk normally anyway, and shouting always feels much more awkward when you aren't drunk. If only the music had been better, this night could have been almost enjoyable.

"I'm bored," Frank moans after what feels like forever. "I think I'm gonna go find Ryan again. I wanna make out with someone." Frank drinks what's left of Gerard's coke and gets up, straightening out his clothes and hair.

"Okay," Gerard sighs, trying to hide how miserable he feels over being left alone again. "I think I'm going to go home in a while. You want a ride?"

"Yeah sure. Just text me if I'm not here." Frank smiles and disappears into the mass of people on the floor. Even if he's still there, on the dance floor with the little jerk, Gerard can't see him. But he can see Mikey and Bob, carrying new drinks in their hands and heading over to his table. 

He spends around thirty minutes talking to them while staring down at his hands to avoid seeing them kissing, touching and groping. It's not a very rewarding conversation since he is doing most of the talking, and it gets quite uncomfortable to sit with his neck bent down, so he excuses himself and sends Frank a text message. He gets one back almost right away, saying that Frank is just outside, having a smoke with Ryan.

What he failed to mention was that 'having a smoke with Ryan' means sharing the smoke by inhaling and exhaling through each other's mouths. Gerard finds them doing just that, and has to stand there, awkwardly watching them until Frank realizes he was supposed to meet Gerard and breaks away.

"Hey, Gee," he mutters, face flushed in a bright red color. Ryan looks from Frank to Gerard and back, a bewildered but sort of proud look on his face. Gerard assumes that Ryan must think that he is Frank's boyfriend who just caught Frank with Ryan, and although that is terribly wrong, Gerard can't be bothered to correct the silent mistake.

The long, awkward moment eventually ends with Frank muttering, "Bye, Ryan," grabbing Gerard's arm and walking away very quickly.

Ryan calls out, "Call me!" after them and Frank groans, but doesn't say anything.

Gerard keeps quiet until they get to the car and are out of sight for Ryan, but then he really can't keep it in anymore. "You're gonna call him?" he asks innocently, knowing very well that Frank won't call him, considering their past and Frank's reaction to it earlier, but he has to ask him just because it's fun to see Frank get worked up.

"No, I'm not gonna call him." He rolls his eyes and climbs into the car as Gerard does the same.

Gerard waits until they're on the road until he asks, "Are you sure you're not gonna get back together?" because he knows that it will annoy Frank more.

"Yes, I'm fucking sure," he spits out, teeth gritted and eyes darker than Gerard can remember ever seeing them.

"Do you think he knows that you're not getting back together?" Gerard smiles innocently when Frank looks at him, seemingly ready to kill him, but then he just laughs.

"I don't give a fuck. If he thinks I used him because I wanted to kiss _someone_ , he deserves it because he fucked me over first." Frank smiles proudly.

"But why did you insist on making out with him? I don't get it. He's a slimy douchebag who cheated on you, and you make out with him as if he doesn't mean anything to you." Gerard takes his hands off the wheel for a moment to demonstrate his confusion. 

"Well, not all making out is because you want to date the guy, or girl. Like I said before, I wanted to make out with someone and Ryan is a good kisser, so I thought, 'What the hell', and went for it. It doesn't mean that I don't think he's an ass, or that I'm gonna go out with him or sleep with him, or do anything besides mindless making out with him," Frank explains, and Gerard nods, really trying to understand.

"But I'll admit that it was annoying when Ryan couldn't keep his hands off of me for more than five seconds." Frank shudders.

"Yeah," the older boy agrees with both hands firmly on the wheel and eyes on the road. "Do you want to watch a movie at my place or something?" He asks as they get closer to Frank's house.

"Sure. I was actually wondering if I could stay over so that I won't have to get up earlier than necessary to get over to your place tomorrow?" Frank makes his best 'adorable puppy that needs a home' imitation and Gerard laughs.

"Yeah, why not?"

***

The next day, they don't get started as early as Gerard would have liked.

They were both rather exhausted after having stayed up too late, watching movies and talking, so not even Gerard is as easily awoken as he would have liked, and Frank proves to be a real nightmare. It's around 10:30 when Gerard manages to pull himself together and starts working on getting Frank up, but it's more like 11:30 when he finally succeeds.

It's after trying to just poke him, hard, and yelling in his ear (both just resulting in Frank muttering incoherent shit and rolling over, away from Gerard) that he tries the 'sitting on top of Frank until he chokes and gives up' strategy from the previous day, but not even that works as well as he would like. Thankfully, he realizes after that, Frank is lying on the edge of the bed, and it doesn't take long for Gerard to push him over it.

"Ow! What the fuck do you think you're doing? I was trying to sleep!" Frank groans loudly, sitting up as he rubs his elbows and the back of his head. Gerard just grins down at him, proud of his triumph. Frank stays down for a minute, pouting and still rubbing his head, before finally standing up. "What time is it?" He yawns, face all scrunched up.

"Almost 11:30, I think. I've been trying to get you up for an hour, you know?" Gerard sighs and gets up off the bed to get dressed.

"Yeah, I've been trying my hardest to ignore you. It was kind of impossible to ignore being shoved on to the floor, though." Frank whines, and Gerard laughs as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Well, what did you expect? I didn't let you sleep here so you could sleep in in my bed. I wanted to get started on the painting early, and that's why you're here." He makes the bed a little haphazardly, more or less just throwing the blankets and covers in a heap on top of it, like he always does.

"I knew it," Frank sighs dramatically. "You only want me for my body."

"Of course I do." Gerard rolls his eyes before looking up at the younger boy who's still just standing awkwardly by the bed wearing nothing but a pair of tight, dark boxer briefs. The bird tattoos, two swallows, on his lower stomach immediately catches Gerard's gaze, and he makes a mental note to remember that he needs to pay extra attention to them when he paints.

"I'm gonna have a shower, if that's okay," Frank says, disappearing before Gerard has had a chance to consider it and respond.

"Just don't take too long!" he calls after him, shaking his head, yet smiling at how much of a teenager Frank really is. Completely undisciplined and so annoying he's bordering on being obnoxious sometimes, but still lovable and fucking awesome. "Oh, and don't fall asleep!" he adds a moment later, knowing that you can never be too safe with Frank.

"I hate you, Gee!" With that, Gerard hears the bathroom door close, and he leaves his bedroom to go to the kitchen and make coffee. He digs out some bread from the freezer to make toast, and sits down with the newspaper by the table while he waits for it to get ready. 

He's not sure why he's even got a newspaper subscription, besides his mom claiming that he needs to stay updated about what happens in the world and, more importantly, in the town he lives in. Not that he usually reads more than what's on TV and the latest movie and video game reviews. The financial crisis and missing children and whatever is going on in the world just isn't something he likes to spend time reading about.

Frank emerges from the bathroom just twenty minutes later, dripping wet and wearing nothing but a _very small_ towel hanging very low on his hips. Gerard just looks up from his half-full coffee mug, lets his eyes flash over the glistening wet birds on Frank's stomach, and sighs.

"You could have dried off and put on clothes, you know. I don't think it's very sanitary to be naked in a kitchen." He looks up at Frank and drinks some coffee before lowering his eyes again. "Or as close to naked as you can get."

At this, Frank grins, and as he turns around to get some orange juice from the fridge, he shakes his ass so that the towel slips even further down. "Well, I figured that would be a waste of time since I'll be undressing shortly anyway. And I like the concept of air-drying."

"Ah yeah, that fresh breeze tickling your balls is to die for." Gerard laughs as Frank grabs some toast and sits down opposite of Gerard.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Frank agrees with a wide grin. "It's like, I love the tight jeans trend just as much as anybody these days, but wouldn't it be awesome if we could all wear togas instead? Or something else that's very airy and free. Like a kilt." He nibbles his piece of toast with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Maybe you should become a professional nude model?" Gerard suggests, folding up the newspaper and putting it aside. "Or start cross-dressing so you can wear skirts and dresses. Or a rapper so that you can have your jeans hanging below your ass."

"I think that would be cold. And I'd trip on the pants. I'm short, you know," Frank objects.

"Well, you would have underwear. And lots of huge, baggy hoodies. And a crew."

"What does the crew got to do with my ass being cold?" Frank frowns.

"Nothing, I'm just saying that your ass wouldn't be cold. And that you can always tuck your pants into your socks and make yourself a fashion disaster." Gerard grins and stands up to get himself more coffee.

"Ugh, I'd rather stick to wearing tight jeans that I don't have to trip on, even if they make my balls feel claustrophobic." Gerard hears Frank shudder and chuckles to himself. Only Frank would go to the lengths of claiming that his testicles are claustrophobic, yet continue to wear such tight clothes. He probably thinks of it as cognitive behavioral therapy to get rid of the phobia, Gerard thinks.

"Gee, while you're at it, would you mind getting me some coffee too?" Frank asks and, by the sound of it, he's got his mouth full of toast and possibly orange juice while he's flipping through the pages of the paper, trying to find the comic section.

"As long as we get started on the painting today, yes," Gerard sighs exasperatedly as he pours himself his second cup of the day, hoping he won't need too many of them to keep up with Frank's very short attention span. 

"Of course," says Frank, grinning like a kid who just got a really expensive birthday present. "You know I can't wait to show off my balls for you."

It's going to be a long day, Gerard thinks, handing the half-naked teenage boy, sitting by his kitchen table, the coffee.

*

It's half an hour later when Gerard has finally got Frank situated in front of the mirror, that he realizes that the position he had decided on the day before doesn't really work, because Frank is either blocking the mirror or not showing the side of his body that isn't reflected. So he has to rethink the whole scene and try to direct the way Frank is standing, which is a lot more awkward now that the younger boy is naked and Gerard can't help but find his eyes drawing to the birds on Frank's stomach and then dropping lower. 

"Could you," Gerard says, pacing back and forth and trying to figure out which angle to look from so that Frank is not blocking the mirror, "try turning away from the mirror?" He moves forward and grabs Frank's bare shoulders to pull him in the right direction and, although he tries to focus on how the reflection looks, he can't help but notice the goose bumps spreading over Frank's warm skin. And the way the younger boy's ass looks in the mirror. 

Backing away again, he shakes the thoughts from his head, instead concentrating on how he can make all of Frank appear in one angle. But, no matter how much he thinks, this is probably going to be the best pose he can find. "You know, I think this is going to be pretty good. If I just aim another light on your front, so that I get the bird tattoos and the flame on your chest, it's going to look great." 

"Sounds great to me," Frank replies, and Gerard smiles confidently. He can definitely pull this off, he thinks, as long as Frank cooperates and isn't too much of a distraction. Gerard has never really imagined Frank being distracting when he first considered asking him to model for him, but he can't deny that the teenager is attractive, and unfortunately not shy enough to not show himself more than Gerard asked of him.

"Okay, I'll be right back." He leaves Frank to go and get the equipment he has borrowed from his school. He has lots of lights and screens to reflect the light and even background screens, but he decides to only use the two biggest lights, and possibly one of the reflecting screens, knowing how much power the lights need, and he doesn't need another background. 

He sets up one of the lights by the windows, not too close to make it seem as natural as possible, like real daylight, and the one that's a little smaller aimed just under Frank's chest so that the light is focused on his tattoos. "This will leave your face sort of shadowed and a little more anonymous, but I think it will look good," Gerard explains as he dims the lights until he's satisfied, and Frank nods.

"Now I just have to adjust your pose a little further, and then I think we're good to go."

"Awesome," Frank laughs, as Gerard ponders over what to do with Frank's legs as he really can't just stand there, straight with his arms hanging by his side. No, he needs to do something about it, to fix Frank's posture, amongst other things. Apparently, if a model is too relaxed and has nothing to do, they slouch, and that never looks good. Especially in nude paintings.

"Okay, this could turn out really weird," Gerard starts, "but if you had something to put your foot up on, like a chair, and you could have one of your hands on the back." He nods to himself and, without waiting for Frank's agreement, he disappears in to the kitchen to get a chair. He's back within seconds and puts the chair just in front of Frank, back against the wall, and pulls Frank's left hand onto the back and places his right foot just on the edge of it. 

"But now you can't see my beautiful cock, Gerard," Frank whines, pouting at the older boy.

Gerard just laughs. "Exactly. Now my professor won't have a heart attack because she lays eyes on a dick for the first time in a hundred years. I mean, I'm sorry to disappoint you, Frank, but I don't think I can get my degree if I kill a teacher. Even if she's like, seventy years old and ready to go." At this, Frank's pout fades and he laughs along with Gerard.

"Fine, but then I expect you to make it up to me by painting me again, after you have your goddamn Art degree," Frank says stubbornly.

"Naked and with your dick visible?" Gerard asks, wondering to himself if he can even do the two paintings where Frank's cock is going to be hidden by his thigh. Making a third one, in another pose, would be hell.

"Yes. A close-up would be nice, too, but whatever you want to do will be fine. You're the artist," Frank grins and holds out his right hand to Gerard. "Deal?"

Gerard thinks about it for another few seconds before deciding that it's kind of pointless to argue with Frank because the kid has got some mad persuasion skills. Besides, if it really is so that Gerard likes seeing Frank naked, why would he say no to more opportunities of painting Frank naked? As long as Frank doesn't see him get hard while they work, he should be fine, and he is old enough to control himself now.

"Deal."

They are both eager to get started on the actual painting now that they've sorted out the boring stuff, but Gerard still has to put markings wherever Frank's feet and hands are, and he also takes a few photos just to make sure they can definitely redo the pose the next time they work on it. With the exception of weekends, they're not going to be able to work a lot every day, since both he and Frank have finals to study for, so there's going to be a lot of short sittings. Gerard knows that it's best to avoid it, but with so little time he can't really afford to only work on weekends when Frank can sit for several hours in one go instead of an hour a day. 

"Please tell me you're gonna start painting now," Frank exclaims when Gerard finally puts the camera down on the coffee table behind himself. "I'm already getting tired of standing here, y'know."

"Well, I'm gonna start sketching it up now, so that I have some lines to go after when I start painting," he calls over his shoulder when he leaves the room to go and get the canvas from the tiny guest bedroom that's actually missing a bed and is therefore used as an art supply room. It's not big enough to be considered a studio, or anything, but there's a desk for all of the paints, pencils and brushes, and cupboards to keep his canvases in. 

After bringing in the canvas, he goes back to the room to get all the paints and brushes he might also need as to not have to go and get them later once he's already started. Once he's finally ready to start sketching, Frank is slouching and leaning against the chair in a bored manner, looking as if he's half asleep already.

"If you could straighten up just a little, that would be awesome," Gerard laughs from behind his easel, to which Frank replies with a glare, before standing up like he's supposed to, letting Gerard get on with his work.

Gerard does so, feeling both relieved and happy that he's now working on his final and most important project of this year. He's glad that he's working on it at all, considering the insane amount of procrastination that was involved in it. He could have, and probably should have, started on it several months ago, but back then there was no real inspiration. And, if there had been inspiration, there sure as hell was no courage to ask Frank to model for him.

As his eyes now move along the smooth lines of Frank's light skin, the pencil gently traces it on the canvas, the motion being so exact it almost feels as if he's gliding his fingertips just over his back, feeling the round contours and the welcoming body heat. He can feel the younger boy's eyes on his face and tries his hardest not to let his cheeks flush red or Frank might come with some witty remark about him blushing like Leonardo DiCaprio did in Titanic. 

He's not sure that he's entirely successful, but at least Frank hasn't said anything ten minutes later when Gerard is ready to move on with paints and brushes. He mixes the colors in the palette, starting with the light blue of the wall next to the mirror and works his way over the background of the painting. He probably should start with Frank, but he still feels Frank's eyes upon him and he doesn't really want to acknowledge that he's there because it would make him lose his focus and he'd end up turning the color of a tomato.

So he moves on with the rest of the wall, then turns to the parts of the window he can see, both directly and in the mirror, so he mixes greens and pinks for the plants, and then a light, creamy yellow for the curtains his mother insisted on him having, even if he hated them himself.

Like this, almost three hours pass, and he's surprised when he realizes how hungry he is, but even more so when he realizes him and Frank haven't spoken a word to each other since he started on the painting. Frank is just standing there, eyes following his every move, wearing an expression that's unfamiliar to Gerard. He seems to snap out of it almost as soon as Gerard looks up at him, though.

"Are you hungry? We should take a break and order pizza or something," the older boy says, eyes locked awkwardly with Frank's as he's still frozen in his spot behind the easel.

"Uh, yeah," Frank nods, and moves out of his pose really quickly as if he just realized he could let go. "I'm gonna get dressed," he adds and leaves the lounge and Gerard picks up his phone to call for pizza. He still feels weird when he hangs up after being told the pizza will be there in twenty minutes, but as soon as Frank comes back, with clothes on, the awkwardness is blown out the window.

"So, how does it look? You better be making me look good, or I'll trick Bob into beating you up," Frank says, giving him a serious look, but it only lasts for a moment because he's cracking up.

Gerard just looks at him, confused. "How do you trick Bob into beating someone up?"

"You tell him that someone did something to hurt Mikey and then he goes into some kind of robotic overprotective boyfriend mode. He's like a killer machine." Frank nods to himself as he speaks, before looking up at Gerard again. "I guess it's not very healthy for them, but it definitely comes in handy when you need somebody taken care of."

The older boy looks at Frank as if he's crazy before speaking, "You've done that before? Sent Bob after someone who was troubling you?"

"No," Frank says, looking almost sad, "But he practically volunteered to go after Ryan when we broke up, and we barely even knew one another back then. I guess Mikey must have been even more pissed than he let on. Or something." Frank seems to be just pondering to himself again, which Gerard thinks is kind of amusing to hear. "Maybe Bob just really hates guys who cheat?" Frank suddenly looks up and aims the question towards a surprised Gerard.

"Yeah, I suppose," he says, shrugging, and then Frank starts again.

"But who would be stupid enough to cheat on Bob? He's like, ninety percent muscle, ten percent beard. You don't mess with that," Frank reasons, now coming over to sit next to Gerard on the coffee table.

"That's true," Gerard nods, and with that, they leave the discussion of Bob Bryar, killer machine and Mikey's boyfriend. 

"Hey, you haven't even started painting me yet!" Frank exclaims in an accusing tone when he sees the painting. "What the fuck am I standing there for if you're only doing background?" He turns to Gerard and gives him his best sad puppy dog eyes, which Gerard thinks look more like a little kid who's about to throw a tantrum if they're not given the latest stupid, but fashionable and very expensive toy.

"Well," he begins, "You're needed because you create shadows. It would look fucked up if you weren't there when I did background, you know. You need to have a shadow, or someone will think you're some kind of evil creature and they'll burn you at the stake." Gerard looks deep into Frank's eyes with some serious conviction in his own while he says this, and for once it's Frank who's all baffled and shocked.

"Oh," is all he says, and looks back at the painting. "They're nice shadows, I think."

"Yeah, definitely," Gerard agrees with a grin, and they sit there and talk while they wait for their much needed food to arrive so that Gerard can keep working on Frank's oh so important and beautiful shadows.

***

The rest of the weekend is pretty much the same. Frank doesn't stay over any more nights (thank God!), but Gerard gets to paint at least two more hours that day, and then between four and five hours the next day too. The next few days they, as Gerard had predicted, only get about an hour a day, but as Gerard has by then started on Frank's body, an hour is more than enough for him.

He had really never imagined that Frank would be so . . . _attractive_. He had thought Frank looked good before, with clothes on, but that really is nothing compared to the seemingly magnetic pull he's feeling now. Once his eyes meet Frank's pale olive hued skin and the brush touches the paint and the canvas, Gerard's stuck and even when his eyes are drooping and Frank looks as if he's about to fall asleep, he doesn't want to stop.

He feels like he's being awfully obvious about his feelings, but he's hoping that Frank hasn't realized anything, and maybe he is lucky, because Frank hasn't said anything about it.

It's on Wednesday, after Frank has hugged Gerard and said Goodnight and Goodbye, after Gerard has finished all of Frank's right leg, that he really cannot help himself anymore. He's exhausted after working so hard all week and not sleeping well because everything he dreams about is Frank, and so he stumbles into his bedroom, onto the bed. He's so tired, but he reaches out to close the blinds, and he reaches out to shut the light off, and he crawls out of his clothes and in under the comforter.

And the image is still implanted in his brain, as clearly as if he was still standing behind his easel, painting. He can see the curve of the younger boy's ass and thigh when he closes his eyes, and he can still remember what it felt like to touch Frank’s warm skin, what it felt like to make goose bumps appear all over his bare arms.

It isn't a conscious decision when he starts touching himself, still with the perfect image of Frank in his head, now improved by his own fantasies, so that Frank is touching himself too, and then they are kissing in Gerard's head, and he is so turned on. He can hear Frank's voice in his head, there's a soft whine to it as it moans his name, and now it's Frank's hand that's touching him, bringing him closer. His own hands are on Frank's thighs and ass and he can almost, _almost really,_ feel the pressure of the younger boy's lips on his neck.

He comes only minutes later, moaning softly and whispering Frank's name, imagining he could feel Frank's soft hair against his skin and Frank's hot body against his own. He imagines goose bumps spreading all over it as they cool down. Then looking into Frank's dark eyes and falling asleep, and he's gone.

***

The next day he doesn't have class, but as Frank has a big test the next day he has agreed to not work on the painting that day, so Gerard is much relieved when he wakes up in the morning. Not that he doesn't want to hang out with Frank, but he's not sure he can look him in the eye after giving in to . . . whatever it is that he's feeling for the boy the previous night.

It would be weird, and awkward beyond his imagination, and what if Frank would notice that something was different? That's not very likely, because if Frank hasn't noticed it before, he's not really going to notice that Gerard wants to fuck him just because he jerked off while thinking about him. It's probably more about Frank being smooth and not saying anything than him not noticing, though, Gerard thinks.

But, even if Frank isn't there in the apartment, with or without clothes, Gerard is constantly drawn to the painting still sitting in the middle of his lounge, and he finds himself standing in front of it for several minutes, tracing the edges of Frank on the painting. There's still so much left to do, like the tattoos that Gerard is actually getting nervous of doing. What if he fails? This had seemed like such a good idea when he first came up with it, and when he told Frank about it, but what if he really can't get the tattoos to look like they're supposed to? 

He lets out a mix between a sigh and a groan as he falls back onto his couch, staring at the ceiling and occasionally looking back to the half-finished painting. Then his gaze wanders to his camera, which is lying on the coffee table, just within his reach. He can't help but turn it on just to look at Frank some more, to see how the soft sunlight falls in through the window and lands on his skin, reflected in the mirror. It makes his skin look even softer, and his brown hair looks golden and . . . 

He puts the camera back down, knowing that if he doesn't stop thinking about Frank right now, he's going to end up with his hand stuck down his pants again. Thankfully, the phone rings just a minute later, providing him with a distraction and a reason to get out of his apartment.

"Hey, Mikey," he says into the receiver, once again staring at the ceiling. 

_"Hey, do you want to come over? Mom wants me to go to the grocery store and there's no way I'm doing it alone,"_ Mikey says, and Gerard laughs.

"You afraid you're gonna get lost on your way from the milk to the ketchup again?" 

_"I was four! And you're the one who let go of my hand and ran off to look at toys, or whatever. It was totally your fault,"_ Mikey defends himself while trying not to laugh, too.

"I know, I got the blame," Gerard says, and as the laughter dies down his eyes sink back down to the painting again. "Anyway, why don't you get Bob to go with you? I mean, he could even help you carry the bags inside. You know I can't promise to do that. Not successfully, at least."

 _"He's working. And you know, mom actually gave me the afternoon off so that I could go to the store. It's like she only hired me so that I could be her slave."_ Mikey actually sounds insulted so Gerard can't help but laugh.

"Mikey, you sweep the floor in a hair salon. You are a slave."

 _"Fuck you, Mr. High-and-Mighty College Student. Are you coming over or not?"_ The younger brother groans impatiently.

"I'll pick you up in ten minutes, okay?" 

Gerard is still laughing when he hangs up and leaves the lounge, but stops as he throws one last glance toward the painting. He really needs to get out of that place, away from the painting and to some place where he doesn't have to think about Frank at least once every minute.

Mikey's sitting on the front steps, looking exceptionally bored, when Gerard gets there, but is quick to hop up and get in the car. "Do you have any smokes?" is the first thing to come out of his mouth, and Gerard understands the bored expression.

"Nope, I'm out, for now. I'm gonna buy some more later." 

Mikey lets out a disappointed groan, and starts fiddling with the almost dead radio to have something to do. There's just static for a while, but then he manages to tune in an actual channel with pretty clear sound and music playing. Unfortunately, it turns out to be an all-Spanish channel and, since neither of them speaks Spanish, it's completely useless. 

They hold up until they get to the grocery store, though, where they go straight in to buy a pack of smokes each and then straight out again to smoke some. It's pretty stupid, and they get a lot of weird looks from old ladies that probably know their grandma, but it's completely worth it.

It's ten minutes later, when they're inside and Gerard is pushing a stupid shopping cart in front of himself, that Mikey brings back the annoying thoughts of Frank by asking how they're doing with the grand project. "I mean, you've been pretty excited about it for quite some time now, but you haven't told me anything about the actual work."

Gerard shrugs, not wanting to talk about it at all. "It's going okay, I guess."

"Okay?" Mikey echoes skeptically. "You spent over two weeks, which I know of, worrying about how to ask Frank to model for you, and now it's only going okay?" Gerard shrugs again, turning his back to Mikey as he reaches for a can of asparagus on the top shelf. "What is it that you're not telling me?"

"Nothing," Gerard says too quickly and shrugs his shoulders a little too innocently. Mikey gives him a sharp look, and he sighs. "Look, I don't want to talk about it here. I'll tell you later," he says in his most sincere voice, but hopes that Mikey will forget about it. Mikey doesn't let him off the hook that easily, though, but keeps looking at him expectantly. "It's. . . It's just not as easy to paint Frank as I thought it would be, okay?"

"What do you mean, not as easy as you thought?" Mikey questions, but it's Gerard's turn to glare at him.

"Later, I promise."

"Fine," Mikey agrees, rolling his eyes before wandering off to find baking paper, leaving Gerard to get flour, sugar and baking powder. They meet up again at the check-out, Gerard with the shopping cart filled up with whatever weird stuff their mother thinks she might need, and Mikey with his arms full of baking supplies, but also a bag of chips and a comic book. Payment, he calls it, for going to get her groceries when it's not a part of his job.

They've hardly even paid, packed and gotten the bags out to the car before Mikey asks Gerard about the painting again, though, and the older brother can't help but wonder why Mikey had to be born without the ability to understand subtle hints like the 'I don't want to talk about it' ones he's sending him. 

"So what's wrong? Are you fighting? You're my best friends in the whole world. I need to know if you're fighting," Mikey says, really quickly, the moment he sits down and closes the door, looking at Gerard.

"We're not fighting," Gerard sighs. "I just," he starts, but stops as he really have no idea what to say. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Gerard, you're going to tell me right now, whether you like it or not!" Mikey says, raising his voice and slamming his hand, carefully but still hard, against the dashboard. 

"I. . ." the older brother says, shaking his head as if that's going to make the words come out on their own, without him having to say them. "I. . . I want to fuck him." He doesn't look at Mikey as he says it, but starts up the car, just to have something to focus on.

"You what?" comes the shocked, to say the least, reply from his side.

"I want to have sex with him, I can't stop thinking about him, and when he's there it's a fucking miracle I can even hold the paintbrush straight." Mikey keeps giving him weird looks that Gerard only sees out of the corner of his eye. "I just, I never expected." He stops again, feeling confused by the millions of thoughts buzzing around in his head. "I never thought he was so… good looking. So attractive and hot. I mean, I guess I've always seen him as a small fourteen year old kid. Not all grown up."

They're both silent for a minute that feels like forever to Gerard, then Mikey says, "Are you saying you've never seen him naked before?"

Gerard groans, wondering why suddenly everybody thought that best friends should be checking each other out and know what they looked like naked. They obviously have a point, though, he thinks, as if he had known that Frank looked pretty much divine, he would have been prepared. Or he wouldn't have asked him at all.

"No, I haven't seen him naked. I've always thought it's weird and perverted to look at him like that since he's so much younger than me," Gerard explains as he stops at a red light.

"It's four years," Mikey states and Gerard feels like smacking him over the head.

"I know how many years it is. The problem is that he was fourteen when we met and I've always looked at him like that kid." 

"But he's not," Mikey states the obvious again, making Gerard feel even more stupid and whiny. It's not like he doesn't know that Frank has grown up. He's seen it himself, looked at the evidence, and it freaks him out. He wonders if this is how parents feel when they watch their kids grow up and into adults, without the mad sexual attraction, of course.

"Have you told him?" Mikey asks, but the look on his face tells Gerard that he's already pretty sure what the answer is going to be.

"No, I can't." Gerard sighs. "If I tell him he'll freak out and stop modeling for me." Mikey rolls his eyes. "Or he'll just laugh straight at me," Gerard says sadly, trying to ignore Mikey's snort.

"Or, he'll act just like himself and blow you, which would make both of you happy." Gerard glances towards Mikey to see his 'You know I'm right, so just do it' expression, and shrugs.

Gerard doesn't reply, though, still feeling confused and now even more stupid because of Mikey's lack of the kind of support Gerard wants. Not even Gerard is sure what kind of support he does want, though, so it's not that easy. Does he want Mikey to tell him to just forget the whole thing, to finish the paintings and never look at Frank's dick again, or does he want to hear that he might have a chance with Frank, if he just tells him?

He really can't tell, because as much as he'd like to go out with Frank, it's so much easier as well as pain and humiliation free to suck it up and ignore the feelings. Telling Frank how he feels would be much too unpredictable, considering he, hopefully, has no clue Gerard feels this way.

There's still Saturday, though, Gerard thinks with an unnerving feeling settling in his gut.

"Hey, are you doing anything this Saturday? Me and Frank are going out, and I was hoping maybe you and Bob could come too," he asks as they reach yet another red light, seizing the opportunity to turn to Mikey and flash him his best, most pathetic looking sad puppy dog impression. 

"Sorry, Gee, but no. There's a Star Wars marathon at the movie theater and Bob and I are going," Mikey says, not sounding very sad, but grinning widely.

"Bob likes Star Wars?" the older boy snorts, despite doing his best not to laugh at what he thinks has to be the best joke he's heard in years.

"He's never seen the movies, and that's why we're going." Mikey beams, most definitely happy to help his boyfriend find his inner geek. There's no better person to help him find it than Mikey, Gerard thinks. Biggest geek he's ever met and a really big Star Wars fan.

"So you wouldn't rather go out and get pissed with me and Frank, and at the same time save me from having to be alone to watch him get it on with pretty much every guy in the club?" The puppy dog expression from before is now gone, replaced with a look of regret and reluctance.

"I don't think so, Gee," Mikey replies, just as Gerard pulls up in front of their parent's house and parks in the driveway. Gerard helps him unload the car in silence, feeling both angry at himself and annoyed and disappointed. Why did he have to go and decide to go out with Frank without asking Mikey and Bob to come too? Why did Mikey and Bob have to have plans _this_ Saturday?

"You know, Gee," Mikey says when they've hauled all the bags of baking supplies inside, "if you get drunk enough, I doubt you'll have brains enough to mind watching Frank getting it on. Who knows, you might even find a guy of your own." Gerard just snorts in reply.

"If I get drunk, it will be Frank I go after. And when I've made a total fool out of myself, he'll never want to talk to me again."

"Don't be stupid," Mikey counters. "Would it really be that awful to have Frank knowing that you wanna do him? He's a cool guy; he'll understand and not give you shit about it." Mikey reasons a little too well, Gerard thinks as the younger brother continues, "And, if you were drunk, he'd probably not take you seriously anyway."

"But he might," Gerard insists despondently. 

"And he might not. And you might not even do anything, so why worry? If anything happens, we'll talk about it then," Mikey says.

"Can I yell at you if something does happen?" Gerard asks hopefully.

"Yes," Mikey sighs, rolling his eyes.

*

Gerard hangs out with his brother for a few more hours, then goes home and orders pizza and watches some old movies that he never gets bored of. He tries not to think about Frank, but whenever his gaze flicks over something that reminds him of the younger boy, he can't really help it.

Frank calls him, too, wondering when Gerard wants him to come over the next day and suggesting that they could do something else too, for a change. _"Unless you're so much of a professional that we can't be friends anymore,"_ he adds, jokingly, and Gerard laughs.

"You bring the movies, I'll make popcorn," he replies, feeling as if everything is normal between him and Frank for the first time in almost a week. He doesn't even worry about them going out until the next morning, after he's had a very vivid dream of Gerard fucking Frank who, in the dream, was covered in paint.

Groaning in annoyance, he gets up and stalks to the bathroom to have a shower and deal with what's left of his dream. He does, however, do his best not to think about Frank as he does, but forces images of his old boyfriends into his head. 

He skips breakfast, but stops at Starbucks on his way to school to at least get some coffee. Then he sits through two hours of a very boring lecture on the importance on the order of which you apply certain colors. As if he doesn't already know those things after having been in Art School for four years and having painted all of his life.

He doesn't have any more classes or lectures that day, though, as most teachers are giving the students extra time to work on their final projects, for which Gerard is very grateful. He doesn't have that much to do until Frank gets there, though, so after a light lunch he ends up half-asleep on the couch, flicking through channels and wondering why there are always five years old soccer games on the sports channels.

When Frank shows up, he's just about as exhausted as Gerard is, having done a three hour long math exam which he thinks he has either done almost brilliantly or failed completely. They do get started eventually, though, and Gerard is glad that he's still got the lecture in his head so that he's got something to focus on besides Frank's naked body. 

The professor was no miracle worker, though, and after half an hour Gerard's eyes are lingering too long at certain places, admiring Frank's toned torso just a little too much. Fortunately, he's got the excuse of actually painting Frank's torso just then, and his stomach where the two black birds stood out. He wasn't painting them just yet, though, because black always comes last.

The only tattoo he has painted so far is the Halloween pumpkin on Frank's back as it's reflected in the mirror, and Gerard is rather pleased with it. He knows he should have waited with that one too, but he was too excited to let it wait like all the others. It's not a perfect angle, which made it more difficult, but he managed not to make it look three dimensional and as if it's standing out from Frank's skin. It looks kind of perfect, actually. As good as it could get, as he had to cut down on the details to make it the right size. 

"Gee, do we have to do this for much longer now?" Frank asks after an hour or so, and Gerard looks up at his face for the first time since he started working. He had seen before that Frank looked tired, but now it's as if he's going to fall asleep on the spot. He doesn't really want to stop, though, seeing as they only just started and he's got more to do.

"I'd really like to finish some of these things today, but I guess we could take a break," he says, taking in Frank's posture that's slouching more and more with every passing second.

"Thank you," the teenager sighs happily, immediately sinking down on to the chair and laying his arms on the back of it and then his head on top of them. Gerard smiles fondly and approaches him to run his hand through Frank's already ruffled hair.

"If you want to nap, you can have the couch for half an hour," Gerard says and Frank looks up gratefully. "Just put some clothes on."

"Thank you," the younger boy grins and stands up to give Gerard a naked, very awkward hug before pulling away to put on his boxer briefs and a t-shirt. He doesn't lie down yet, though, but looks at Gerard. "Wanna be my pillow? I've found that laps don't hurt my neck nearly as much as armrests do." He grins stupidly at Gerard who rolls his eyes.

"Fine." He sits down as far to the right he can, giving Frank more room to lie down in, and to his own surprise he's not feeling too uncomfortable when Frank puts his head on his lap. After a minute he even starts running his fingers through Frank's abnormally soft hair that always feels freshly cut even if Frank straightens it and uses lots of products regularly.

The younger boy sighs sweetly and relaxes further into his slumber, so Gerard keeps stroking his hair, brushing it out of his face and letting his fingers occasionally caress his cheeks and forehead too. He sits like that for several minutes, seemingly mesmerized by the adorable expression on Frank's face as he sleeps, and the feeling of Frank's hair and skin, but as his gaze travels, his mind does as well.

Gerard had noticed before that Frank's legs must be shaved or waxed, but now he was closer and he could almost reach out to touch the smooth skin. He touches Frank's face instead, but the sudden reminder of how close to his crotch the boy's face is makes him go hard and a flush of panic appears on his cheeks. What makes it all worse is that as his eyes flicker around the room to somehow get an idea of how to get out of the situation, he sees all of his paints and the dream from this morning returns, paint-covered and naked Frank and all.

This is a little too much for Gerard and, not even caring about the prospect of Frank waking up right now to see Gerard's boner, he lifts Frank up and gets out from underneath him. He goes straight for the bathroom, just to hide out until it's gone down again. The funny thing is that the erection isn't even what bothers him most. The stupid images and the whole dream are. He can't ever imagine actually doing something like that, because, not only would it be too kinky, it would be too expensive to spoil paints like that.

Thinking of expensive paints makes his erection go down pretty quickly, but he still stays locked in the bathroom until he hears Frank walking around, calling his name. He knows that Frank can't have any idea of what happened, but he stills feel a little ashamed, and the feeling stays with him for the rest of the afternoon and evening as him and Frank leave the painting and go on to watch the movies Frank brought.

Frank falls asleep again, though, curled up against Gerard with the older boy's arm wrapped around him. His breathing is light; his mouth hanging open and a dribble of saliva is just about to fall onto Gerard's shirt when he awakes with a start. 

"Hey, sleepy-head," Gerard says, grinning and feeling completely normal. There are no weird fantasies occupying his head. "You pulled an all-nighter last night, didn't you?" He lifts one of his hands to brush some hair out of Frank's face, and the boy hums in reply. Then he does something that catches Gerard completely off guard and the older boy's face burns red.

He kisses his cheek.

In all honesty it's just really sweet, and Gerard knows that, but he freezes up and doesn't really know what to do. It's the kind of thing Frank occasionally does, and Gerard doesn't usually mind, but now he's not sure. It's a little more than a hug. A little more more-than-friendly than a hug, and for the first time he's not sure how to interpret it.

It's Frank, though, so he decides to act as normal as he can. "I'll drive you home," he says, rubbing up and down Frank's arm before withdrawing his arm and standing up.

Frank just groans softly, not even trying to stand up. "Can't I just stay here? It's less trouble." Gerard won't have that, though, and pulls Frank onto his feet.

"You'll sleep better at home, in your own bed, and surely you want to be well rested for tomorrow night," the older boy says, and a light goes off in Frank's eyes as he looks at Gerard.

"Yeah, I want that," he whispers. "I can't wait."

"Neither can I," says Gerard, pulling Frank out to the hallway and, eventually, out to the car to drive him home.

*

The next day they don't work that much on the painting, but Gerard does finish everything that won't be black, whether it is the tattoos or any contours that may be needed. Since Frank doesn't come over very early, and is in a rush to go back home and get ready, Gerard figures he might as well just leave the painting to dry overnight so that he can continue immediately next time.

He, too, takes his time getting ready for the night, thinking that he might as well do that as he's got two hours until he's meeting Frank at the club. He figures that having something to occupy his mind will stop him from thinking about Frank, but he ends up feeling more nervous and sweating uncomfortably. He leaves after another shower of cologne and hopes that Frank won't say anything. Or think anything, for that matter.

He takes the bus there, not wanting to have to leave his car behind because he'll be too drunk to drive, and when he gets off the bus outside the club he immediately has Frank's arms wrapped around his neck.

"Finally, I was starting to think you weren't coming," Frank says in Gerard's ear, easing his grip a little. "Ryan's here, and I sort of told him I was meeting _someone_ , just to keep him away, so now I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend."

Gerard spends the next 15 seconds staring at Frank as if he's speaking a different language, like, Portuguese. "You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend?" he asks, putting a lot of emphasis on 'me'. Frank nods, still standing very close with his hands on Gerard's chest, as if to keep up appearances. "Why don't you just go and make out with him for five minutes like you did last week?"

"Because making out with him is what got me into this situation," Frank whines, giving Gerard a pleading look. "If I as much as kiss him again he's not gonna stop until we've had sex and stuff, and I don't want that. You know that." Frank looks down sadly, and Gerard feels a surge of guilt in his chest.

"What do I have to do?" he asks softly, raising a hand to lift Frank's chin up and brush his hair out of his eyes, secretly feeling rather excited about the prospect of pretending to be Frank's boyfriend.

"Just stay close at all times and dance with me." Frank grins, wrapping his arms around Gerard's waist and standing up on his tiptoes to kiss the older boy's cheek again. 

He blushes, but actually likes the tingling feeling, and puts an arm around the boy's shoulder, pulling him really close as they queue to get inside.

Frank stays curled up under Gerard's arm as they get inside, too, only moving away briefly when bringing their drinks to their usual table and squeezing in behind it. Then he's back with his head against Gerard's upper chest, the older boy's fingers switching between stroking Frank's shoulder and his hair.

He knows it shouldn't really feel any different than when they're doing this at home by themselves, just watching a movie and falling asleep on top of each other, but to Gerard this does. It feels real, like Frank's having the same feelings he does, but he reminds himself every third minute that they're just pretending.  
He wishes Frank wasn't so good at it, though.

But as Frank holds his hand, softly, in his slightly sweaty palm, occasionally looking up with his large, dark eyes, Gerard lets himself forget, little by little, that they're pretending. They've had quite a few drinks each by now, so they're relaxed and comfortable, but when Frank catches Ryan staring skeptically at them from across the room, he looks at Gerard with a sly grin.

"You wanna dance now?"

Gerard doesn't even think to object like he would have if he had been sober. He simply grins back at Frank and slides out from the booth, empties what's left in his glass and holds Frank's hand tightly as they step out on the floor. Hot, sweaty bodies surround them and they almost feel the condensation on their skin as they stop, turning toward each other and moving even closer.

Frank's hands lock behind Gerard's neck, his eyes facing upwards and Gerard's heavy breath hitting his forehead. There's a heavy beat in the music, but it's not too fast, and so it causes this natural sway of their hips. Gerard's hands are moving on their own accord, downwards, and, when they reach their destination, Frank lets out a soft moan that only Gerard can hear.

He can taste the coke and vodka in Frank's breath as it hits his face in steady intervals, and he responds by slipping his hands into Frank's very tight back pockets, giving his ass a little squeeze as he does so. Frank's lips part a little more, and his eyes, so dark it seems like there's only the black pupil left, widen just enough for Gerard to notice it.

"You having fun?" he leans close to Frank's ear, letting his lips brush the shell of it. He feels the boy squirm a little against his body, but pressing closer.

"Yeah," he whispers back, so softly Gerard can barely hear it over the music. "But it's gonna get better soon." He pulls away and looks at Gerard, who's looking at him expectantly as though he's reading the younger boy's mind.

Frank doesn't waste any time before leaning up and covering Gerard's open, waiting mouth with his own. Gerard's eyes are closed before they've even made contact, and he's kissing back before his heart has even had time to skip a beat. His brain doesn't register it either, he just does it, and the sensational feeling of Frank's tongue in his mouth is probably enough to knock out all the nerve-cells in his brain.

The younger boy moans softly as Gerard tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth, and his hands twist in and tug on Gerard's straightened and hair-sprayed hair. Gerard just kisses him, a little too eagerly for it to be graceful and nice, but he figures it doesn't matter since they're both kind of drunk, and getting drunker later. 

"Wanna go grab a smoke?" Gerard mutters against Frank's lips when they, after several minutes of fierce kissing, break their intense lip lock. He's panting hard, straight into Frank's mouth as the younger boy breathes back just as heavily, and their lips move together into a kiss in between inhales and exhales.

"Uh-huh," mutters Frank, following closely behind Gerard as they exit the club.

Smoking isn't really what's on Gerard's mind when they get outside, though, as Frank's hands have slipped into the back pockets of his tight jeans. He means to say that his cigarettes are in the front pocket, but when he turns his head back, Frank immediately captures his lips in an open-mouthed kiss. So he turns around completely and backs Frank up against a wall and kisses him until the younger boy is out of air and, gasping, pulls away.

Not saying anything, Gerard pulls out the pack of smokes and hands one to Frank before sticking one between his own lips and lighting up. Mirroring him, Frank inhales the first breath of nicotine smoke deeply, and exhales slowly in the direction of Gerard's face. Then, taking another deep drag, he pulls the older boy closer and attaches their lips as he breathes the smoke out again, resulting in Gerard coughing and backing away. 

"You might have enjoyed your smoke kisses with Ryan last week, Frank, but I really don't like that shit." Gerard shakes his head, but takes a drag of his own smoke. "I need to breathe air too, y'know."

Frank looks at him in a way Gerard can't decide whether it's apologetic or annoyed, so he adds, "If that's what you want you can go find Ryan. It's fine." But Frank shakes his head and keeps smoking, his eyes locked on Gerard.

After finishing their cigarettes in silence, they go back inside, Frank's hands gripping Gerard's tightly as they pass through the mass of dancing people. Gerard squeezes back, and when they stop at the bar he puts his arm around Frank's shoulder.

The night passes quickly, Gerard thinks, with his mouth attached to Frank's seventy-five percent of the time. They sit huddled close together in their booth, touching and kissing in a way that Gerard is not entirely sure is legal. They lose track of how much they've drunk pretty early, but it doesn't matter. Gerard's too drunk to care if he's making a fool of himself, or if he's touching Frank in inappropriate ways on the dance floor.

When the place finally closes, Gerard is too drunk to do much more than realize that he is really horny and that Frank is hot and soft and smells pretty damn good beneath the smell of sweat and booze. "You're coming home with me," Gerard whispers hoarsely, nose pressed against Frank's hair and arms wrapped around his back. One of his hands slips down to Frank's ass, so he gives it a firm squeeze.

"Of course I am," Frank gasps just as he turns his head, giving Gerard a mouthful of alcohol-stinking breath. "I gotta make sure you get home safe," he slurs, "and put you in bed, and suck you off." He takes a step backwards, in the completely wrong direction, as if to get them moving, but he stumbles and falls back onto Gerard.

They giggle stupidly, but eventually make it to the bus stop with one another's strong, but unstable, support. Gerard falls onto the old bench that smells strongly of piss, but neither he nor Frank care as the boy falls on top of him and their mouths melt together again. Frank seems to be trying to say something against Gerard's lips, but the older boy isn't too interested in that, and just keeps kissing and groping the younger boy until their bus shows up and they take a seat near the back.

Again, Frank takes his seat almost on top of Gerard, kissing him hungrily and pushing his hands under the older boy's shirt. Gerard, keen to feel more of Frank, returns the favor and kisses back hotly, groaning as he feels the boy's dry fingers brush his hardened nipples.

"I wish I could just blow you right here," Frank whispers, moving his lips over Gerard's cheek and jaw, down to his neck as if in search of the perfect spot to place a hickey. Gerard only replies with a groan, losing his fingers in Frank's hair and his head in the wondrous feeling of being touched like this.

It's a miracle they get off at the right bus stop, though even getting off the bus at all is a real success for the two of them. Thankfully, Gerard's building is not far away, and they reach it within ten minutes. Climbing the flights of stairs is another deal, though, and it takes them at least another five minutes to get up to the right floor.

"Hurry up and find the goddamn keys, Gee," Frank groans, squeezed in between Gerard and the door, lips raw and swollen against Gerard's neck. The older boy is digging through his pockets as fast as he can, though, as the hint of Frank's erection against his thigh distracts him just a tiny bit.

They both moan happily once they stumble inside and, as if they're already choreographed, Frank jumps up and wraps his legs around Gerard's waist as the older boy lifts him up. They go straight for the bedroom, and within seconds they're tearing off one another's clothes. Frank's shirt is the first to go, and the younger boy starts working on Gerard's pants, but suddenly stops and pulls away from the heated kiss. 

Gerard looks at him for a moment, then stares into air as the boy rushes off to the bathroom, and only sounds of him vomiting reach Gerard. He thinks about going after him to check how he's doing, but he figures he might as well just wait in the bedroom. 

It's not long before Gerard's out cold on the bed, snoring loudly into a pillow.

*

Gerard wakes up to the sound of Frank snoring next to him on the bed, smelling strongly of alcohol and vomit, which doesn't surprise Gerard one bit. He groans loudly and rolls over, rubbing his eyes and noticing that he is still fully dressed, unlike Frank who's not wearing a shirt.

His head is pounding, his mouth is dry as a desert and he needs to piss really badly, so he slowly gets out of bed and, making his best impression of a zombie, he makes his way to the bathroom. His pants are already undone, which doesn't surprise him either because it wouldn't be the first time he's fallen asleep in the middle of getting undressed.

He hops into the shower after having taken a lot of aspirin and water, and stands under the hot spray of water for fifteen minutes before getting out. The painkillers are starting to work and his head feels a little clearer, so he goes and wakes Frank up, handing him a glass of water and aspirin before he's got a chance to whine.

"Just take this and go and shower. You're reeking. I can almost smell how much tequila you had last night," Gerard groans, pinching his nose as if to illustrate the point he's making. Frank does as he's told though, merely sniffing himself briefly, and scrunching up his nose, before disappearing into the bathroom.

Gerard, starting to feel hungry as his hangover is slowly fading, goes out to the kitchen and pours himself a bowl of the most sickeningly sweet yogurt there is, with chunks of strawberries in it, and makes coffee. There's nothing like coffee to make a hangover go away completely, he thinks, watching the clock on the wall and noticing that it's just a little after noon. He still feels exhausted, though, and as he has no idea when they got home last night, he can't tell for how long he slept.

This brings him to the realization that he has no idea what happened the previous night, at all. Normally, this wouldn't bother Gerard a lot, because most times that he went out and got really drunk, he wouldn't remember much of it at all. Like the night he first met Frank, for example. But normally, he wouldn't have a huge crush, or obsession, on his best friend that had a tendency to be very intrusive and touchy-feely when drunk.

And Gerard, remembering just up until they entered the club, remembers the pretending-to-be-Frank's-boyfriend thing, and, for all he knows, it could have turned out real. Or, he could have done something to Frank and made a complete fool of himself.

He breaks out in a nervous cold sweat, and after pouring himself some coffee, he actually burns his tongue because he's so preoccupied by his thoughts that he doesn't realize it's scolding hot. He can't really calm himself down, though, as there's no way for him to tell what happened the previous night besides asking Frank, and how awkward wouldn't that be if something did happen?

"Coffee!" Gerard jumps at the exclamation, and turns around to see Frank swish past him to get a mug and pour himself a large portion of the very dark and hot beverage. He's wearing Gerard's clothes: a pair of dark sweats that are much too big for him, and a blue David Bowie tee. "Mmm, this is so good," he hums happily, inhaling the strong aroma.

Gerard doesn't say anything, but when Frank looks at him he gives him the sort of look that Gerard can't decipher, although he'd love to know what it means. "So," he says, "How was last night? As you can probably guess, I have no recollection of it at all." He shrugs and looks at Frank who laughs softly.

"Well, judging by the huge hickey on your neck, I'd say you had a good time last night." He grins, reaches up and touches the mark as if to point out it's whereabouts to Gerard, though the older boy suspects that Frank is looking closer at it, as well.

"Hopefully I'll remember who put it there in a few days." Gerard smiles at Frank, who retracts his hand and smiles back.

"You usually remember everything, don't you?" Frank gives him another undecipherable look, and Gerard's not even sure if it's positive or negative. It just is, and it makes him wonder whether he might have actually done something the night before, anyway. It doesn't really matter, though; he's too chicken to ask.

"Yeah," he just says. "You know the only time I still don't remember anything of is the night we met."

"Yeah, obviously," Frank sighs, but Gerard doesn't ask what he means. "Anyway, now that we've suppressed our headaches with coffee and pills, are we going to be working on your painting today?" He takes a sip of his coffee and then just holds the mug under his nose, breathing in the warming smell.

Gerard gives a lazy shrug. "Maybe later. I don't really feel like doing anything today." The younger boy nods. "Wanna watch some movies?" Frank responds with another nod and a grin that Gerard can't help but return.

*

The days pass just like they did the previous week. They spend an hour, maybe more, a day painting, Gerard moving on to the second one as he's finished the last details of the oil painting. On Tuesday, Gerard still hasn't remembered anything from his night out with Frank, but he's still getting the strange looks from Frank that he thinks must be related to that night. He's also having even more trouble concentrating on the painting and not staring at the younger boy. 

It starts as soon as Frank gets there, even if he doesn't take his clothes off right away. It's in that strange facial expression, in his eyes, and Gerard is certain there's something very sensual in the way he pulls his t-shirt over his head and how he slides his tight jeans down his smooth legs that never show any signs of regrowth. Gerard has checked.

It continues, too, when Frank takes his position and keeps moving in that annoyingly arousing way. Gerard thinks he looks like a fucking porn star and he's having some real trouble keeping his horny eyes away when Frank's hands caress his own skin in an exaggerated but not completely inconspicuous way. They circle his tattoos, as if they know Gerard is crazy about those colorful images. As if Frank knows.

It only ever lasts a few seconds, though, as Frank freezes in his pose and only his eyes stare intently at Gerard. 

What he does to keep himself from losing control over his body, blushing and getting hard, is very simple. He breathes deeply, in and out at a slow rate and, as he's on the brink of passing out he can't really think about anything but dipping the brush in the water, swirl it around in the paint and then bring it to the canvas.

He breathes out a deep sigh of relief when they decide that they're done for the day, but Frank asks if Gerard would mind helping him prepare for an important oral presentation he's got the following day. Not seeing how he could ever let Frank down, Gerard agrees to do it. "But only if I get coffee first," he demands, and Frank rolls his eyes. 

The presentation was an argumentative speech on why Frank thinks that all religious institutions should stop interfering with the state. It wasn't much more than five minutes long, and really not as boring as Gerard remembers the oral presentations used to be when he was in High School. He didn't even fall asleep, during any of the three times Frank went through it, and he was surprised at how well Frank was expressing himself.

"I think it's really good," he tells Frank, who is grinning stupidly. "The research was good, the arguments were valid, and the presentation wasn't boring. You should get at least an A for it," Gerard continues, and takes a stumble backwards as Frank throws his arms around the older boy's neck. 

"Thank you," Frank whispers, and Gerard can feel his hot breaths against his neck as he replies, "You're welcome."

He doesn't normally feel awkward when he's just hugging Frank, but it's as if there's a new level of intimacy between them as the boy clings to him, face burrowed against Gerard's neck. And Gerard can't really _not_ hug him back the same way, even if it's weird because he likes Frank in a completely different way than how Frank likes him and so it has different meanings for the two of them.

Standing with his nose pressed into Frank's fresh smelling hair makes him wonder, though; what if his feelings are returned?

His breath hitches in his throat, and he pulls out of the embrace so fast it takes a few seconds for Frank's face to go from shocked to hurt. He backs away, looking down, and Gerard feels as if someone stuck a needle into his heart and injected it with guilt and shame.

"I guess I should go," the younger boy mutters, and Gerard just nods sheepishly. 

"Uh, good luck with the presentation. I'm sure you'll do great," Gerard says hesitantly to Frank's back; the boy already opening the door and stepping outside. There's a sad slouch in the way he holds his shoulders, compared to his usual straight posture.

"Thanks," he says softly, turning to give Gerard a small smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah." Gerard nods, and then the door is closed and Frank is gone, but the horrible feeling of guilt is still there inside Gerard's chest. The look on Frank's face made him feel like a monster, but Gerard can't even explain why he pulled out of the hug like that. It was just Frank. It was completely innocent. 

The thought sticks with him until he goes to bed half an hour later, and for the first time in several days, he doesn't fall asleep with the image of Frank naked in his head. Instead, he falls asleep to the image of the boy looking sad and vulnerable and hugging Gerard desperately.

Yet, this is the night he first dreams about being at the club with Frank. In the dream, they're sitting at their usual table, close together and Gerard's left hand linked with Frank's right. They're kissing, and Gerard's not even sure whose tongue is doing what or whose hand is caressing the other's cheek and whose hand is in the other's hair, but he loves it. He can taste an Absolut Vanilla shot on Frank's lips, and he moans softly before pulling away and opening his eyes.

He's lying in his dark bedroom, a cold sweat breaking out all over his body and there's one thought in his head.

Shit.

Surprise is the first thing he feels, though. He had been expecting to find himself making out with someone when he started remembering that night, but Frank was the last person he had expected. He almost doesn't believe the dream is a real memory, he's so sure Frank would have told him that something happened between them. 

He gets out of bed and goes to the bathroom, despite it not being more than five in the morning. He gets into the shower, though, and tries to remember more, but right then it's impossible. There's still just the feeling of Frank's lips on his, and the sweet taste of vanilla mixed with alcohol.

He gets hard, but he decides not to do anything about it until he knows more of what happened between him and Frank. For all he knows, there could have been just that one kiss and nothing more or they could have had sex in the dirty restrooms at the club before coming back here to crash. 

It's when he wipes the fog from the mirror, after stepping out of the shower, that he remembers the hickey on his neck. And it's as if everything clicks. The way Frank pointed it out, touching it, and asking whether Gerard thought he'd remember that night. Frank gave him that hickey.

*

Over the day, Gerard thinks about nothing but Frank and what had happened at the club, and he even manages to remember another few minutes of them making out, this time up against the brick wall outside. This time he couldn't taste any vanilla, but he's sure that they had just finished smoking. After all, why else would they be outside?

When Frank shows up, grinning and proudly stating that his oral presentation went very well, Gerard doesn't say anything about him remembering, though. He'd rather figure some more of it out on his own first, and he's not sure he understands why Frank hadn't said anything to begin with. If Frank only wants to put the episode behind them, it would explain why he didn't say anything, but then why had he seemed excited to know whether Gerard would remember or not?

Either way, they both get into the painting just the same as the previous couple of days, and Gerard finds himself staring more intently than ever, because he can't help but wonder if he's actually touched all of that skin. His gaze lingers longer than usual at the birds on Frank's stomach, and it sweeps slowly over his back and down his legs.

Then, just as his gaze returns to Frank's face and he's about to put the brush against the canvas to paint the shadows of Frank's hair falling over his face, another image flickers before his eyes. It's in his apartment this time, and him and Frank are just stumbling inside, kissing sloppily as the younger boy hops up and wraps his legs around Gerard's waist. He tears off Frank's shirt, but then it's over and he can't remember anything else.

"Gee, are you okay?" Frank asks, looking concerned. 

"Yeah, of course I am, why wouldn't I be?" he replies quickly, looking away. 

"You just froze and stared into space for a minute." His voice is soft, but Gerard feels his eyes burning into him. "Did you remember something?"

"No," Gerard says. "No, nothing yet."

With that, he returns to the painting and they don't speak until they're done for the night and Frank leaves. He hugs Gerard again, but it's not like the previous day. It's just like any other hug, brief and light, like it's supposed to be between friends.

"See you tomorrow," Frank says as he lets go, and Gerard nods, muttering 'You too'. 

When Frank has left, Gerard goes straight back into the lounge to get his camera and then to his computer to upload all the photos of Frank. It doesn't feel right, but that last memory he had is the closest he's ever been to having sex with Frank. That he knows of, at least. He can't stop thinking about it, the weight of Frank's body and his legs around his waist, the heat flowing in waves from Frank's naked chest to Gerard's body; it all turns him on like nothing else. The photos of Frank are just helping him reach where he is heading quicker, and that's how he wants it. He doesn't want to spend lots of time on such a dirty, unsatisfying act. 

He does it quite a few times the next few days, though. 

*

On Friday, the situation hasn't changed much. Gerard has remembered a lot more of the night, the first kiss on the dance floor, for example. But he hasn't told Frank anything, even though he's sure Frank knows that he's remembered at least some of it. He hasn't spaced out with Frank around again, either, but he's feeling more and more awkward when they're working on the painting. It's like he shouldn't be allowed to have Frank like this, not when he's abusing it and using it as jerk-off material. 

"Hey, do you wanna watch a movie later?" Frank asks, effectively disrupting Gerard's train of thought. 

Gerard's not sure he wants to hang out with Frank more than he really has to, but he knows it would be suspicious for him to say no, and, no matter how awkward it can get, he really misses being with his best friend. 

"Yeah, of course." He grins, and something feels really warm in his chest as Frank grins back. "We can stop now, if you want," he adds, biting his bottom lip nervously. There's a heated gleam in Frank's eyes, and he nods.

"Do you mind if I borrow your shower for a minute? These lights are really hot and I feel sort of sweaty," Frank says, and Gerard nods, ignoring the fact that Frank has never complained about getting sweaty, or asked to borrow his shower because of it, before.

"Yeah, you do that. I'll just make popcorn or something."

Frank giggles softly and leaves the room, still as naked as the day he was born and with Gerard's eyes following him as far as they can see. Gerard releases a shaky breath when he hears the bathroom door close, and hurries to clean up his brushes and paints, but as he does so he accidentally pours the jug of dirty water all over himself.

Groaning, he puts all of the dirty brushes back down and goes to find a clean shirt, peeling the dirty one off on the way to his bedroom. He dumps it on the laundry pile by the door, and picks another one up off the floor. He's sure he's only worn it once before since he last washed it.

He's not even left the room before he's met with the unexpected image of Frank, dripping wet and wearing just a towel around his waist, and stops dead in his tracks. He doesn't even know why, but his best guess is that he was just not prepared. 

Frank steps closer, not stopping until they're only separated by a few inches of air. It's dark where they are standing, but the water droplets all over Frank's body are still glistening in the light coming from down the hall. Once again, the younger boy is wearing an expression that is unreadable to Gerard, and when he opens his mouth he doesn't seem to be saying what he wants to say.

"I forgot my clothes in the lounge," he whispers, smiling a little and looking up at Gerard with his dark, dark eyes.

"Yeah," Gerard replies dumbly. He's looking at Frank's lips, because he knows that if he lets himself look further down he won't be able to control what happens. Frank seems to be able to read his mind, though, or the boy has just been really good at seeing through each and every one of Gerard's lies for the past few days.

"You remember, don't you?" His voice is softer than a whisper, just like his hand as he reaches out to take Gerard's hand in his. 

The older boy doesn't reply, but he doesn't shake his head either, so Frank continues, "I don't understand why you're pretending that you don't. I can see it in your eyes every day. Not only that you remember most of what happened on Saturday night, but that you want me. I watch you, all the time, when you paint me." Frank's voice fades, and he swallows sharply. "Why are you denying it?"

Gerard's just listening, watching the emotions as they play over Frank's pretty features. Then he says, "Frank, I don't. . ."

"No, Gee. You do. I see you, every single day, I see the way your eyes linger at my tattoos, the way you try to preserve them in your mind." Gerard still doesn't know what to say. He can't read Frank the right way. "You even told me, at the club. You told me that you can't stop thinking about me. So I know, Gerard. I know everything, except the reason why you won't admit it."

"What do you want me to say?" Gerard asks. "I don't. . ."

"I want you to say that you want me." Frank suddenly grips Gerard's face with both hands and looks straight into his eyes. "Me, Gerard. Your best friend of four years? Frank. It's just me." Gerard's not sure he sees more anger or more sadness when he looks into Frank's eyes, but it cuts deep into him nonetheless. "I don't care what happens now, I just need you to say it. Please."

There are a few moments of deep silence, and when Gerard's sure Frank is going to leave, he finally manages to open his mouth and get it out. "I, I want you." A spark of hope appears in the younger boy's eyes. "I want you, but-"

"But what? There's nothing stopping you." Frank takes Gerard's hand again, gently bringing it to his own, bare, stomach where two birds fly together. "I want _you,_ Gerard." 

It's as if a jolt of electricity goes through Gerard's finger as he touches the inked skin that he's admired from afar for so long. He can't even feel it. It's just ordinary skin. "Frank," he sighs, looking down. Before he knows it, Frank has closed the remaining gap between their bodies and pressed his mouth up against Gerard's.

It's an awkward position as Gerard's face is turned down and Frank has to crane his neck to the side to kiss him, but Gerard loves it anyway. The younger boy breaks away for half a second, then returns as Gerard faces up again, allowing them to kiss properly. It's open-mouthed and sloppy, Gerard's left hand fisting Frank's hair and the younger boy running his hands all over Gerard as if he's not sure where to put them.

It doesn't last forever, though, as Gerard breaks away. "Can I ask you something?" Frank nods, although his fingers are fiddling with the hem of Gerard's t-shirt. "Did we have sex?" He feels his cheeks flush hotly, but Frank just smiles and kisses him again.

"No. I threw up before we could get that far." He giggles softly, but then Gerard kisses him, and it's everything it was on Saturday, except they're not drunk, which only makes it better. Gerard's hands are all over Frank's body, and Frank tears Gerard's shirt off just before attaching his lips to the older boy's neck.

It's when Gerard is pushed up against the door to his closet that Frank's mouth moves up to his ear. "I still wanna blow you, y'know." He doesn't wait for a response before sinking down onto his knees, but he does look up at Gerard before undoing his jeans and pulling them, and his underwear, down to his knees. Since Gerard is already hard, he doesn't waste any time before taking him in, groaning softly as he does so.

Gerard feels as if he's gonna come right then, or as if his legs are going to give out. But, he manages to keep standing upright and not to come for at least a few minutes. He finds it harder to not tug slightly at Frank's hair as his fingers tangle in it, though, and to not push forward too much. Not that he's hearing any complaints from Frank. He just hears, and feels, the younger boy moan just as he comes, really hard and really fast.

Gerard has hardly even come down from his high before he pulls Frank up by his shoulders and kisses him, feeling sort of desperate. Frank's moaning throatily, pressing closer to Gerard, his body feeling hot and his skin moist with sweat. 

Gerard steps out of his jeans that have pooled around his ankles and, pushing Frank back towards the bed, he removes the towel from around the boy's waist. They fall onto the bed, Gerard on top of Frank, and within a few moments Gerard's pumping Frank's cock rapidly and sucking on his neck.

He moves down, though, running his lips and tongue over Frank's sweaty chest, eager to give that little extra to bring him over the edge. His tongue has barely even touched the tip of Frank's cock before the younger boy thrusts up into his mouth, groaning and running his fingers through Gerard's hair. The older boy doesn't waste any time teasing Frank, but takes as much of him as he can in his mouth and sucks hard while letting the fingers of one hand stroke his balls.

It doesn't take long for Frank to come, and when he does, it's with Gerard's name on his lips. Gerard smiles inwardly, busy as he is swallowing Frank's load. He doesn't let go until Frank's gone soft though, the rest of his body relaxing as well, and he kisses Frank's hips. Then he kisses around his navel, and all over the two birds that fascinate him more than anything. Well, almost anything.

Gerard lies down with his head on Frank's stomach, the boy's fingers running through his hair and over his face. Gerard's drawing invisible patterns on Frank's skin with his fingers, breathing softly in time with the even rise and fall of Frank's chest.

He wants to ask Frank a lot of questions, starting with what just happened between them. What's going to happen now? How are they now? What are they now? It's all so confusing because Gerard hasn't even accepted that _he_ has feelings for Frank yet. How can he even begin to understand that Frank might have feelings like these for him?

He doesn't know what to ask first but, thankfully, he doesn't have to ask anything.

"I've liked you since I was fourteen," Frank whispers softly, stroking the back of Gerard's neck. "I used to think it was just a silly crush, but during the last year it's been a lot more than that. I've wanted nothing more than for you to notice me."

Gerard doesn't reply immediately, but then he says, "I think I might have. Noticed you, I mean."

"Yeah," Frank says skeptically, "After you started painting me naked and checking me out for several hours a day."

"No," Gerard insists, "Before that. I just didn't realize it." Gerard hasn't really thought about it before, but it's actually true. He had found Frank to be attractive before, too, but at a seemingly innocent level where he just thought it was because they're friends and nothing more. It had never occurred to him that he might be attracted to Frank on a sexual level, or that he had other feelings for him than friendly ones. 

They both lie silent in the dark for what seems like hours, and Gerard thinks Frank might have fallen asleep, but then the younger boy says, "What happens now?"

Gerard's glad he wasn't the one to bring it up, although he wanted to ask the question and didn't want it asked to him. He doesn't know what happens now. "You know how I feel about you," Frank continues. "But I'll understand if you don't want this."

Gerard can tell by the tone of Frank's voice that that's not true, though. He remembers the hurt expression on Frank's face from when he pulled out of that hug too quickly, and he can imagine how much worse it would be, how Frank would feel, if he were to reject him again. He doesn't want to do that to Frank. Not without trying, at least.

Putting down his hands on either side of Frank's chest, he heaves himself up, so that he can look at Frank properly. "I can't really promise that it will work out in the long run, but I want to give it a try. It's what you deserve, and I really want to figure out my feelings for you."

He can make out a smile on Frank's lips, and leans in to cover them with his own in a sweet kiss that makes his chest swell, and his heart beat faster. Frank grins up at him through the dark when they pull away, and he feels strangely happy and satisfied when he lies back down and wraps his arm around Frank's warm body.

They fall asleep not long after, and the last thing Gerard thinks is that he has never heard a silence so beautiful.


End file.
